


Chivalry

by Musical_Noel



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms, Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera - Gaston Leroux, Phantom of the Opera - Lloyd Webber
Genre: Chivalry, Completed, F/M, Jealousy, Knights - Freeform, Long Time Friends, christine is a princess, erik is a knight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:00:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24314698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Musical_Noel/pseuds/Musical_Noel
Summary: Erik has been winning the jousts since he started, but one little bet by one princess can throw him off his horse, literally.
Relationships: Christine Daaé/Erik | Phantom of the Opera
Comments: 3
Kudos: 26





	1. Chapter 1

"And your champion is" the announcer paused for dramatic effect, the crowd practically falling out of their seats waiting for the results, "Erik Devereux of France!" Most of the crowd cheered instantly, already knowing what the results were before it was even announced, but still being joyful. The remaining few groaned, having lost a bet once more. The other knights sighed in defeat, for this is not the first time he has beaten them, and it most certainly won't be the last.

Erik stepped up and graciously took the first place prize from the man, a chalice adorned with jewels around the lip of the cup, before stepping back and holding it over his head, listening to the crowd roar through his helmet. Jousting isn't what he enjoys in life, but hearing that crowd jump with joy does put a smile on his face, not that they can see that, for he still has his helmet on his head, to afraid to take it off.

Really, there shouldn't be anything he was afraid of, the common people look a mess all the time, never shower, some even have deformations, but he's not common, he’s noble, or close to it. He's a knight, he's supposed to be the perfect man. Chivalrous in the definition. People should look up to him, not be afraid of the exposed bone of his face.

He hates it, hates everything about it. It's set him back in life, he spent the first twelve years of his life practically in solitude, his mother didn't love him, his father was never there, he just stayed in his room learning to read, write, play music, create art, be a chivalrous man, except that meant he knew very little about how to relate to people. So, he's a knight. He could have been a lord, probably would have been better, but nobody wanted a lord with that face, so better to drop ranks and join the army, at least then, if he fought in a war, he could have an excuse. Except he was too good of a fighter, he never came back with a scratch on him, not the first time at least, France doesn't get many wars that he has to fight, but it was a valid idea at the time, especially since he joined the army with a death wish.

So eventually everything led to where he stands now, continuously winning jousting contests, fighting contest, just winning. He got rich off it, there's no denying that, but after a while, it gets boring, more like a chore, but he can't stop now. Erik turned around from facing the crowd once more to the royalty, and sitting there, in the middle was Princess Christine.

Ahh, Christine. He used to be friends with her, not that she's ever seen his face. She used to sneak into his knightly lessons, pretending to be a guy. It might have fooled the old drunk who was his teacher, and possibly the other two idiots in his class, but she didn't fool him. It didn't matter to him, her education was probably boring, which colors to wear with what day or whatever. His was just useless. How much would a knight possibly need to know before he dies at war. Or so he thought, then Christine, or Christin, started attending his classes and made life liveable. She's still never seen his face, he wore a mask, of course, something he made during his 12 years of isolation. She didn't even question it. They became great friends, confiding in each other, learning off each other, albeit, Christine learned more off of Erik then Erik did Christine, but it was still things he might have never known.

They were 16 at their last lesson, now they're 21. Life goes on, they finished classes, Christine somehow got away with it all, Erik still isn't sure how, and he went off to sit in a camp for a year before the war was won, before returning and becoming a national sensation. Well not really, but still.

Christine gave Erik a simple modest nod as a congratulation and Erik could have laid down and died right there and been content. She makes his heart melt, and quite frankly, it scares him. He's never felt this way about anyone. He thought the feeling would go away during his wartime, but it didn't, he came back and saw her and melted. Again.

Eventually they escorted the court out, then the knights, to a large tent where common people couldn't reach them. Two guards stood outside, so Erik couldn't sneak out, though he could dunk under one of the walls of the tent, it is cloth after all, but someone would definitely notice, and he's the champion, he can't sneak out noticed. Mostly he just wanted to avoid interaction with other people. He should take off his helmet, have conversations, but he really doesn't know how to interact with people, especially with them staring at his bones the whole time. Kinda makes the conversation awkward. For the most part, people stayed away from him, congratulating him when they walk by, but that's the extent. The large man with a helmet you can practically feel the glare through kind of runs people off.

Well, most people.

Not his squire though. Daroga.

This man will not LEAVE Erik ALONE. He doesn't take the hint. Not in the fucking slightest. And boy does it ruffle Erik's feathers.

"You can take the helmet off, you know. No one here will be bothered by it." Erik knows he means well, but sometimes he forgets.

"I won't be doing that," Erik said, watching Christine from across the room.

"I'm sure if you took it off, she'd be more likely to talk to you, you're closing people out by leaving it on," Daroga suggested.

"First of all, you cannot tell where I'm looking so why did you just assume it was at Princess Christine, second of all, I don't like people, so better to close them out. Rather than let them in so they can laugh at me." Christine glanced over at the two men, Erik at least a head or two over the squire. "Fuck off, she's coming over here." Erik nudged the smaller man who didn't move a muscle to it at all.

"Nope,"

"Piss off,"

"Nadda"

"Daroga, I swear to every God there is I will murder you right now if you do not leave,"

"You don't have the fucking guts," Daroga whispered, turning slightly towards the knight before greeting the Princess before him. "Oh, Princess, don't you just look absolutely fabulous," He said, bowing down. Erik followed in suit, not saying anything. She did look fabulous. A baby blue gown that perfectly accented every natural curve of her body. Maybe Erik should stop staring and say something.

Anything.

At all.

Work Brain.

Fuck.

"Daroga, will you excuse us," Christine said politely.

"Of course, Princess, I shall be wandering around if you need me," Daroga left, his wine glass in hand. As soon as he passed by Christine, he turned around, giving Erik a double thumbs up around his cup behind Christine's back and Erik glared at him through the helmet, certain Daroga knew.

"You don't have to leave the helmet on, you know, there's no shame,"

"Ahh, my Princess," she shivered as Erik paused, "I wish I could, but I just wouldn't feel comfortable."

"Well, then why don't we go somewhere where you are comfortable, shall we?" she held out her arm so Erik could escort her out, and he was more than happy to oblige, looking for an escape from this tent that is slowly closing in. They stepped outside of the tent into the cool fall air, though Erik was still sweating under all of the layers of armor, and walked around until they found an area a little more private.

"I don't understand why you always insist on covering your face. It makes it very difficult to hold a conversation you know," Christine said, eventually coming to a halt and facing him.

"I wouldn't want to scare anyone, especially someone as beautiful as you." She blushed and looked away.

“Sure, but I’d like to hold a conversation with a man, not a knight.” She was very stubborn, used to getting what she wants, mostly cause she knows how to get it, but also because she’s the princess.

“I’m afraid that there is no man under the mask, princess, only a monster,” Again, she shivered when Erik said 'princess'.

“Oh, Erik just take the damn mask off.” He was slightly taken aback at her directness. Something you wouldn’t expect from someone who is supposed to be modest at all times. “If you don’t, I will.”

Erik laughed from his core, throwing his head back, before stopping abruptly. “I’d like to see you try. You’re barely tall enough to reach my shoulders,”

“Oh, now you’re just being overdramatic, you are not that tall,” She stomped her foot, something that would have had more of an impact if it wasn’t mud under them right now.

“Why do you want me to take it off so bad?” Erik asked in a low voice.

“Because you are the champion knight of my kingdom, I want to know who I’m talking to, why won’t you take it off?” She whined.

“Because there is no man under this mask. I adore talking with you, princess, I don’t want to ruin what we have.” She paused, her features softening.

“Fine,” She huffed, but she can’t really argue with him. “We shall make a bet then,”

“What kind of bet,” He was always hesitant to enter deals. Most men he knows lose everything they own taking bets thinking they could win them.

“Well, if you win the next tournament, you can keep your helmet on or a mask on and show me when you please, however, if you lose, then you should have to take your mask off and show me the secrets you are trying so hard to hide.” She stuck her hand out to shake on it.

Erik thought about what she was offering. Clearly, she had something up her sleeve, or else she would not have suggested it. Erik had not lost tournament ever, sure he loses jousts sometimes, but never a tournament. She’d be foolish to make this bet unless she had some kind of plan. But, Erik was curious to find out what it is.

He shook her hand, taking the bet.

A sly smile took over her face. “You have two weeks, you better start practicing.” She said as she walked away, leaving Erik dumbfounded.

Practicing? Of course Erik practices, that’s how he’s gotten so good, he could joust with his eyes closed and still win. His focus is untouched by anything.

He walked through the streets, passing beggars and cougher, sick people, children stealing, but they all stopped and stared as he passed. It might have looked weird, the Princess just passed by and not minutes later, a knight.

Christine. The only thing in the entire universe that can shake his focus.

He’s doomed, yet somehow more determined than ever to win the next tournament.

Two weeks.

Fuck that’s a long time.


	2. Chapter 2

“Word came in,” Daroga said, sitting on the tree stump while Erik was practicing, “Raoul De Chagny is to be competing in the next tournament.” Erik stopped mid-swing, his apprentice cowering in fear.

“What? That’s impossible,” Raoul. That insolent prick? In his tournament? Does he have no dignity, that’s Erik’s fucking tournament ring. He has his own. Erik stomped towards Daroga who was sitting on a fallen tree, dropping the sword along the way and sitting practically on top of him, stealing the scroll from his hands, reading through the names. “If that,” He paused, searching for the word, “douchebag, comes, and tries to fuck with Christine one more time, I swear to god, I made it perfectly clear that he keep his distance.” Erik’s face turned red with anger.

“Alright, calm down Erik, no need getting worked up over this, plus what he did wasn’t so bad. You would have done the same thing in his situation.” Daroga reasoned. `

“I would not have,” Erik looked offended.

“Bullshit, before you, he was the best, then you came and ruined any chance he could possibly have with the Princess. He doesn’t understand why, I mean, I’m not so sure myself. Clearly, she knows something about you most people don’t.” Erik waved at the apprentice, telling the boy to go away. He remembers the apprenticeship he had to do while he was training. Worst six months ever.

After the boy left the two men alone, Erik explained.

“We used to be friends Daroga. She went to the knight classes I took, dressed up as a boy.”

“What? That’s ridiculous,”

“It’s dangerous and amazing. I don’t know if she knows I know, but she knows who I am, she’s seen my face before, well not my face, but without the helmet, with the mask. She’s the greatest thing I’ve ever been around and I’ll be damned if I lose her to the blond hair chick.”

“It was the king’s adviser and you know, the guy is not a bad guy, I’ve talked with him, seems pretty respectable.”

“Liar. He became a knight cause he’s like eighth in line for his family’s inheritance and so the only way for him to get any kind of respect was to marry. It was as much his idea as it was the king's advisors. Those two bumbling idiots have never had an idea of their own.” Erik, by this point, was pacing, “I refuse to lose her, Daroga, I refuse,”

“You won’t Erik, Clearly she likes you, you’re a mystery to her. Girls love mysterious men. Plus you’re tall and have a deep voice. You are like every woman’s dream husband. Well, besides the whole, you know, fugly thing.” Daroga leaned back snobbily.

“Fugly?” Erik asked, stopping his pacing and just looking confused.

“Fucking ugly,” Daroga explained.

Erik took a running leap at the man, arms outstretched to wrap around the squires' throat.

*~*

Finally, it was the day of the joust, the two weeks passing by quicker than imagined. Erik woke up at four, hardly getting any sleep, which was unlike him. Usually, he sleeps like a rock, he never gets nervous for jousts, not since he won his first tournament. He decided that he wasn’t going to roll around in his bed anymore and so he quickly changed into common clothes, grabbed his mask, and decided to go for a walk around the town to clear his mind. It was quiet, very little people out roaming around. There were a few, night workers returning to their homes as early workers left. But they were few and far between, mostly it was just silence. The sun was casting a holy glow on the small city, giving just enough light for people to see where they’re walking, but not enough for the tired people dragging their legs to realize that Erik had a mask on. Not that it’s something odd for people. A lot of men that go out to war and get injured wear masks. 

He came to the intersection and turned, but there he stopped in his tracks for the princess was out walking also. Obviously, she was out all dressed up walking the streets, she would get mobbed, but there was no doubt in Erik’s mind that it wasn’t her. She was dressed in her old boy clothes and kept her head down, walking at a leisure pace.

_ I guess she couldn’t sleep either. _

Erik turned around and went back the way he came, not wanting to get spotted. He doubts that she would have even approached him, she hardly knows what he looks like, it has been a while, but he has some easily recognizable features, like the mask for instance.

When he arrived back at his tent on the edge of the forest, he decided to work out a little, wake up his mind.

He started thinking about Christine again, he can never keep his mind off her.

_ Why was hse out walking? Was she clearing her mind as well, what could she possibly have bothering her? Although it was nice seeing her, it has been two weeks. I mean I’ve been cooped out in the forest practicing. I’m always practicing. Hell, I’m practicing right now. But what’s on that girl's mind. She’s a mystery as much as I am, and god do I love it. I love her. _

His hand slipped out from under him while he was doing pushups, his chest hitting the ground, and he just laid there, thinking about Christine.

“Erik,” Daroga kicked him, “Erik,” again, a kick, “Erik! Wake up you log,” his leg slammed straight into Erik's ribs, making him groan in pain.

“Why… the fuck…did you think….that was a good… idea,” Erik stuttered through coughs, trying to catch his breath.

“You have to be at the damn circle in fifteen minutes, I expected you to already be there. Imagine my fucking shock when I walk out of my tent to see you lying on the ground, asleep! What is your problem, let’s go,”

“Wait,” Erik said, standing. “What about my supplies and armor.”

“Toliver is already on his way there, he got a head start. Guess you better pick up the pace if you want to make it.” Daroga was already walking away, Erik running to catch up with him

He got dressed on his way there, which is more complicated than it sounds and the three probably would have been better off just quickly dressing him when they got there, but whatever. Erik quickly headed over to the stables to grab his horse, Caesar, a beautiful all-white horse, something rare to find, before riding her back over to where the tournament events are held.

“Oh, Sir Deveraux, I thought we were going to have to get started without you. Please, get set up over there and get in line to be announced, we shall wait another two minutes for you, but that’s all.” Erik nodded, jumping off the horse and throwing the reins at Toliver along with his sword and knives to Daroga before running over to the line. He hates being late and rushed, though it is his own fault. 

Erik zoned out during the opening ceremony, he never really pays attention because it doesn’t concern him, he already knows who he is going up against in the battle. And even if he didn’t what’s it matter, all he knows is he has to win. It’s his squires' job to tell him his opponent's weaknesses. 

The crowd erupted into cheers and broke Erik out of his daze and he looked up, only to be shocked to his core. There, standing in front of Christine, grabbing the handkerchief out of her hand as a token, was Raoul fucking DeChangy. 


	3. Chapter 3

I’m going to murder that bastard. 

The man next to me bumped into me, and pushed me to start walking back behind the scenes to prepare for the fighting, but I was too focused on what just happened to even care. Usually I would get angry. 

I cannot believe Christine would do that. She turned down Raoul's last advances, seemingly disgusted with them. And she seemed so interested in me, flirting and such. Why now would she turn her back on me for the enemy? That low life freak has nothing, is nothing, and most certainly will be nothing after I am done with him. 

“Woah, what’s wrong with you,” Daroga said as I stomped into my tent. 

“Raoul,” I growled out. 

“Alright, alright, you can’t get held up on him, you have a tournament to win.” 

I snapped back into reality, hoping to clear the horrifying image I just saw from my mind forever. 

“Okay, okay,” I said, hoping to build up energy for the fight that is yet to come. “I can do this, no need to get siked up over nothing.” I took a breath, then said “let’s go.” 

I grabbed my helmet and walked out of the tent, getting on my horse, and getting ready for the joust. As I neared the arena, the roar of the crowd grew, and the excitement that I’m about to destroy that bastard in front of hundreds of people. 

Both of us readied out lances, and when the whistle rang, we were off. Halfway to him, I saw the scarf Christine gave to him peeking out of the neck of his armor. I got spooked, losing my confident demeanor for the one second I needed it, just the right second for me to almost be knocked off my horse. 

The entire stadium turned silent as the realization of what just happened spread over the crowd. 

He almost knocked me off my horse. This hasn’t happened since my first ever joust. 

The entire stadium was silent except for one voice, which sparked the rest. Raoul, cheering, being completely unknightly, not that I have much to say but I hold it up. 

I’m still absolutely stunned. He caught me off guard. 

No, She caught me off guard. Christine. She knew exactly what that would do to me. 

I shook it off. It was just once. I can still win. Sure it ruins my perfect record, but it was never going to stay that way, I’m getting old. Eventually I would have had to settle down. 

Daroga and Toliver ran over to me with a container of water and a rag, trying to cool me down cause they knew I was going to be fuming. Mad. Which, of course, I am. I’m going to kill someone, preferably the boy. Definitely the boy. 

“Erik, you gotta listen. You can’t kill him, but you can beat him. Pull yourself together and this time, lower your fucking lance and you might actually have a shot.” 

I glanced over at Christine who had a knowing smirk on her face. This was really her plan. She didn’t like the boy at all, she knew that that would throw me off guard. She knew this whole time that I hate Raoul and she knew he was coming. Goodness, I should give this girl more credit than I have been. She’s probably smarter than everyone else in this kingdom. She will definitely be a mighty ruler with backhand plans like these. 

I pulled my horseback around to face my opponent. Not a minute has passed since I almost fell off my horse, and now I’m more determined than ever. But, so is he. 

He lowered the mask of his helmet and we both got ready to go again. 

This time, however, that kid landed flat on his ass. 

He can fuck right off if he thinks he’s going to win over Christine. 

What a fool. 

And that’s how the rest of the rounds went, I just kept knocking people down. Hit after hit. 

“Erik, stop daydreaming. You need to beat the boy.” I snapped out of my daydream and focused in front of me. There Raoul was, the same snarky smile on his face as I imagined before he lowered his helmet. I readied myself. 

_ But what if Christine really does like him? _

And then he knocked me off the fucking horse again. 

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. 

I didn’t actually fall off, but I’m still furious. 

I win. I'm supposed to be the winner. Why, why now, especially when there’s a bet against me. 

If I don’t win the next three round I won’t win. I won’t be overall. Well I might be. But I need to not lose.

I decided to take a breather. I walked into the privacy tent as Nadir told the judge I needed a break. 

I have two minutes. 

“No princess, please you can’t go in there, you don’t know if he’s indecent.” I heard Toliver say. Quickly I put my helmet back on my head before she walked into the tent. 

“Erik please -” 

“Christine you can’t-”

We spoke at the same time cutting each other off. I nodded my head to signify that she should go first. 

“Please don’t lose because of me. I thought it was a good idea, but now I don’t want to force you into doing something you’re not comfortable with.” I stood there dumbfounded before slowly approaching her and grabbing her hand. 

“Christine, it’s okay. I’m just, taken aback. I’m losing to that idiot.” She laughed as I continued. “ I didn’t think it was possible for me to take defeat before but seeing that you gave him a token… well, I clearly am affected.” She blushed a little before someone yelled that I have thirty seconds left or I forfeit. 

“You should probably get back out there,” Christine whispered. 

“Yes I should.” I stood there for another second, just looking into her eyes. 

I guess it is probably very odd for her. Since I got back from the war, or what was hardly a war, I’ve only taken the helmet in the privacy off my own home, or tent, or bed quarters. So really, she hasn’t seen me without it since we went to school, and that’s all she can remember of me. 

Turning, I walked out of the tent, a new kind of determination on my mind. She only gave Raoul the token to throw me off and damn did it work. 

I hopped on my horse, staring the boy down through my eye slit. At the sound of the okay, I took a deep breath and rode towards the other man. Lowering my lance, I actually did knock him straight off the horse. 

The entire crowd broke into cheers that their champion was back, he was back and ready to win. 

And so win he did. They handed the trophy to me, and I held it over my head in a victory dance of sorts. This was an exciting day for me because it’s the first time I almost lost a jousting contest in ages, gave, me something to actually work for. Well, that, and the princess. 

I glanced over at her, she was solemn, having lost the bet, but I could tell she was still happy that I didn’t lose the Joust. 


	4. Chapter 4

Erik didn’t even go to the party this time, not caring enough about it. It was a stressful day for him, therefore he just headed back to his own tent. He feels no shame about it. It’s not like he tries to talk to other people anyways. Although he’s sure people would want to hear about why he fucked up so early in the competition but dominated after taking a break. Maybe it comes off that he really just had to pee, but he doesn’t care. Nadir and Toliver went in his place. Not dressed up like him pretending to be him, although it wouldn’t be that hard. Just place one on the other's shoulder and stand menacingly in the corner. That would be some trick. But just in place of him. 

He went back to his home, which he owns but tries to avoid it. He only lives there in the offseason. It close enough to the woods where he has privacy, but far enough from town that people don’t come knocking on his door to sell him useless shit. Not that he’d be there half the time but still. When he finally reached the doorstep, he opened the door and the smell instantly relaxed him. His home is the only place where he can really be himself, and he can finally feel free. 

He took his mask off, having already taken him armor off at the camp where he and his partners set up. It’s set aside for the competitors, especially those that come from out of the area so they don’t have to travel far, they’re just outside the town. Then he snuck his way out of camp, dressed in normal people clothes. Tan. 

However, the second he sat down on his couch, there was a knock on his door. 

He groaned and weighed the consequences of not answering. Chances are it’s unimportant, but on the off chance it’s Nadir or Toliver, he decided he had to. Slowly he stood up, not realizing how tired his body really was until he was able to relax, and made his way over to the door. One agonizing food step at a time. 

When he opened the door though, that’s when the real shock came. 

It was Christine. 

His hand instantly went up to cover his face, but it was too late, she had already seen it. She didn’t look horrified but definitely shocked. 

“Well, this is not how I was expecting this to go,” she said, turning away slightly. He stared at her for a moment more before giving up, dropping his hand away and letting her in. 

“Why what a cute little house this is. Whos is it?” she spun, looking everywhere but at him. 

“Mine, I bought it a while ago, I just don’t get to spend much time here due to the always traveling and such, but it’s nice to have a place to fall back on when I just want some alone time.” He explained. 

“Well then I am sorry to intrude on that,” She said, facing him, but still not looking directly at him. 

“Christine,” he said softly, crossing the room over to her, for he was still standing by the door whereas she was in the middle of the room. He grabbed one hand with him, the other going to her chin and lightly forcing her to look in his eyes, which she did. 

“I’m sorry,” She whispered. He was taken aback. 

“There’s no reason to be sorry,” he said quietly, noticing how close they actually were. “The only thing I want to know is how you found me here,”

“Oh, well” he dropped his hand from her jaw as she bashfully turned to the side, slightly embarrassed, “I may or may not have followed you here from the camp. I was going to stop you there, but then I saw you clearly were going into your tent to get changed and I did not want to walk in on that. I was going to wait until you were done, but then you walked out in common clothes and a mask on, and I could actually see your face, I was shocked, and by the time I realized you were walking away, with a purpose might I add, I couldn’t catch up enough to stop you, so I,” she paused, clearly embarrassed, “followed you?”

Erik paused for a second looking at her red face before letting out a deep bellowing laugh. 

“Stop laughing,” she complained, “it’s not funny, I just wanted to apologize for what went down today. I’ve never liked Raoul, especially after he tricked my father and advisors into marrying him to me without even asking my opinion. I just wanted to see you but then I realized it was wrong of me,” she trailed off, he was still chuckling. 

“Oh, princess, of course, it’s not, but it is sweet. A little creepy, but still sweet.” He looked down on her with a slight smile painting his face, Christine's face also cooled down a little, lessening the redness. “All I’m wondering is why would you trick Raoul, and me, into thinking you liked him, was this all just in your, genius plan.” 

“Yes, yes it was. Girls can be clever too ya know,” Christine said triumphantly, placing her hands on her hips.

“Clever, or stupid. He’s going to be all over you trying to get you to marry him now ya know. You accepted his token, that's no small action you know.” 

“Oh, he’ll be fine, I’m the princess, he can’t hurt a hair on my head, I know deadly people in high places that would do anything to protect me. Like you for instance.” 

_ She is so confident _ , Erik though,  _ very sly and cunning, always planning something and never caught _ , and really that was enough for Erik as he leaned down and kissed her. 

She seemed shocked for a moment, but only a moment, before she followed suit and kissed him back. The height difference was a little awkward, but they still managed to close in closer to each other without breaking the kiss. 

There were no sparks flying or butterflies fluttering, it was just love, nothing more, and really, that’s all Erik needed. And Christine too, just a little love, and nothing else in life matters. 

“Well Christine,” Erik said when the kiss broke, “I must say, if this is just another one of your cunning plans to get me to fall for you, I must say it’s working,” 

“Good,” she smiled, and then leaned in again. 


End file.
